


Sam's turn

by jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [234]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2019-04-18 00:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14200620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Sam's turn

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

  
**players only. backdated to early March 2014, takes place the morning after[Ryan's branding](http://sam-worthington.dreamwidth.org/1680.html).**

The fresh brand low on Ryan's hip aches, a continuous dull throb. He reckons he's lucky that their guy Dan knows his stuff so well, and so actually used a diathermic technique rather than the old method, the one which literally burned layers of flesh away. This way the ceremony seemed marginally less barbaric - to Ryan, anyway - and he supposes this "morning after" he's experiencing right now could have been a lot worse.

All that said, the wound hurts like a son of a bitch.

But he works to ignore the rushing waves of pain, because today they're going to celebrate with a very different kind of ceremony: Dan is going to tattoo Sam for the first time -- and it will be Ryan's permanent mark on his lover.

"You sure about this?" Sam asks, coming out of the shower, towel wrapped low around his hips. "You really want to mark this pretty, perfect skin of mine?" He grins.

"Damn, you know I do," Ryan answers, his gaze moving in hungry approval over Sam's body, lingering on his lean hips with that tease of a towel. "But I guess I'll let Dan do some of the work, too."

Sam laughs, dropping the towel by the bed and reaching for the jeans and tank he set out earlier. "You can mark me all you want later," he offers. "I've got a couple of days. Just nothing too serious where it'll show."

Ryan grins and gets on the bed, prowling across on hands and knees. "So sexy," he whispers, licking along a stretch of smooth tanned belly. "So gorgeous."

"Not half as gorgeous as my boy," Sam insists, sliding a hand into Ryan's hair, urging him to stay where he is.

"Why can't I mark you down here now?" Ryan asks, his mouth moving in a ghost of a caress over Sam's hipbone. "You're going to make me wait?"

Fuck. "One mark now," Sam murmurs, unable to resist the pull of Ryan's mouth. "Otherwise it's Dan we're keeping waiting."

Ryan's teeth bare in a wicked smile and he drops flat to his belly on the bed. Reaching out, he wraps his arms around Sam, pulling him in close, fingertips kneading that tight ass. He licks a broad swathe at the top of Sam's thigh, lightly abrading tender skin with his tongue. Then he sinks his teeth in and sucks hard, moaning at the flavour of his lover's flesh.

Sam's cock jerks to full attention now and his hand tightens in Ryan's hair, a soft curse spilling from his lips as he considers making Dan wait as long as they need.

It's a moment before the force lessens, before Ryan stops biting, stops sucking, and goes about lazily licking the fresh bruise. He glances up at his husband's face, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Oh, fuck," Sam breathes, eyes heavy-lidded, his whole body tight with arousal. "You're such a brat."

"I'm so crazy about you," Ryan whispers back. He kneels up on the bed and takes Sam's face between his hands to kiss him thoroughly.

Sam grins into the kiss. "As evidenced by this," he murmurs, drawing a circle around the bandage covered Ryan's new brand.

"Yeah," Ryan agrees, his smile going a touch goofy. "You're right: it's kind of a dead giveaway." He's never felt more complete.

Sam kisses Ryan again, holding him tight for a long moment before finally, reluctantly, drawing back. "We'd better get down there."

"Yeah." But Ryan lingers a few moments longer, trailing his fingertips lightly across Sam's chest. "Are you gonna let me sit in the chair and hold you?" he asks, remembering how well the reverse worked out when he got his nipples pierced.

"You really want to do that?" Sam asks, not sure if Ryan's teasing or if it's a genuine request.

"Of course I want to." Ryan blinks, startled by the question. He pales and quickly tries to backtrack. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-- I just thought, since it's Dan, you--" Yeah, right. He wasn't even thinking about how uncomfortable it might make his Sir. "That was a stupid question, I'm sorry. Please forget it."

"Hey." Sam cups the back of Ryan's neck and forces his boy to look at him. "I don't want to forget it. I just didn't know if you were serious. Of course we can do that."

Ryan's eyes light again. "Yeah?" he asks, his excitement returning in an instant. "Thank you. Thank you," he repeats, hugging Sam close.

"You're welcome," Sam says, hugging back, his chest suddenly so fucking tight with emotion. "You gonna let me dressed or am I going down this way?"

Ryan snickers softly, but obediently gets off the bed to fetch Sam's waiting clothes. "As if the folk 'round here haven't seen _much_ more scandalous before," he teases back, doing up the button of his lover's jeans and then threading his belt through the loops. "Although, it's true," he adds, considering, "having the treat of seeing _you_ like that should cost lots more than just the general admissions fee. To be fair."

"Me? You're the one built like a god," Sam says, although to be honest, he's probably in the best shape he's been in in years.

Shaking his head, Ryan shrugs that off. "Yeah, no," he assures Sam, letting his lover step into shoes before he links their fingers and leads him out the door. "If anything, I'm just pretty scenery. Even Dan knows that," he says somewhat randomly, stepping into the lift and pushing the button for 2.

" _Just_ pretty scenery?" Sam says, eyebrow raised as he pulls Ryan in against him. "You are so much more than that, and Dan knows that too," he insists, kissing his boy. His husband.

Ryan grins against Sam's mouth and kisses him again. "But today I get to be the big hero," he teases, working his fingers through Sam's hair. "I get to cuddle my man while he takes a little pain to show his devotion to me."

"Hold, not cuddle," Sam corrects, but of course he's teasing too.

"Ha. Hold, then," Ryan agrees, thrilled to bits that Sam allowed the rest of his claims to stand. The lift dings and he keeps their hands tightly linked as they step out into the hallway. "First time," he says, turning in the direction of the suite of rooms Dan is working from, as he was kind enough to leave his home studio and travel to them just for this visit. "Are you scared?"

"A bit," Sam admits, figuring there's no reason to pretend otherwise. "But more because it's an unknown for me."

"Fair enough." Knocking on a door, Ryan waits and then grins at his husband when they hear Dan's called-out invitation to enter. He holds the door open but waits for Sam to head in first, though he does smile and wave at Dan as soon as he spies their favourite tattoo artist.

Dan grins and nods back, pulling his hair into its usual long ponytail. "Hey. How are you today?" he asks Ryan, knowing Sam won't mind his concern being first focused on his boy.

"I'm great," Ryan answers automatically, then realizes that Dan is specifically asking about his brand. "Oh! I mean--" He draws his t-shirt up and looks down at the bandage with a rueful smile. "It hurts like a motherfucker, really. And that's when I'm _not_ moving." Looking back up at Dan, he snickers.

Dan laughs and nods. "It should get better in a day or two, enough that you won't be feeling it all the time."

"I'll look forward to that," Ryan says with a laugh, pulling Sam forward. "But enough about me. Today I'm entrusting you with my greatest treasure." He gives his husband a grin.

"I thought we already did your dick?" Dan quips, unable to resist.

Ryan snickers appreciation. "Nah, that's not mine anymore." He slips his arms around Sam from behind and grazes kisses over his lover's throat. "That's his, now."

Dan smiles. "And what about you? Are you ready for this?" he asks Sam.

"Definitely," Sam says with a nod, flashing Ryan a smile over his shoulder. "I made a promise. Tattoo for a brand and Ryan picked out an amazing design."

"Yeah, it's, um-- Well, you have it right there," Ryan says, flushing a little. "It's a traditional Aboriginal carving. Loosely, it means home."

Dan nods. "I didn't know the meaning but the design's _really_ nice. It'll make a great tattoo."

Sam smiles, placing a hand over Ryan's and giving it a squeeze. "Yeah it will."

"Do you need me to go over anything?" Dan asks, wheeling the tray out from its position by the wall.

"Nah, I'm good. Ryan's gonna sit with me though, if that's okay with you."

Dan smiles. "Of course." He nods towards the chair. It's not quite as big as the one in his studio but it'll do.

Thrilled to bits - oh god, they're actually _doing_ this! - Ryan sits down in the chair, scooting back to make room and then spreading his thighs wide for Sam to come sit between them.

Sam strips off his tank top and sets it aside before taking his spot between Ryan's thighs. He shrugs out his shoulders, trying to ease the tension starting to build there and settles back while Dan finishes his preparations. "You sure you don't want to just settle for biting me whenever you feel like it?" he teases over his shoulder.

"I do that already, anyway," Ryan murmurs in mild protest. "I wouldn't give that up for anything." He hugs his husband and nuzzles his throat, breathing in the strong rich scent that is Sam and no other.

"Not even when you'll have a permanent mark on me?" Sam says, winking at Dan. "I don't know about that."

"But this will be the permanent mark that _everyone_ can see," Ryan murmurs, and lick along the outer edge of Sam's ear. "All those bites and bruises, those are just for me. I'm sure you must understand that selfishness, right, Dan?"

"Definitely," Dan says with a smile, swiping an alcohol wipe over Sam's skin. "Just don't tell my husband."

"Your husband doesn't like you being possessive of him?"

"More he doesn't think I need to be," Dan says, continuing his prep work, the design carefully transferred to Sam's skin. "When we were first together, he was still seeing others and it was my big fuck you to anyone he was with. But we've been monogamous for years and I still get a kick out of marking him."

Ryan grins and presses his lips to the side of Sam's throat. "It's always the quiet ones you've got to watch out for," he says, huffing a soft laugh. "You only think you know what's going on in our heads."

"Plotting, are you?" Sam teases back, not really minding at all. Giving Ryan's thigh a squeeze.

"What do you think?" Dan asks, angling a hand mirror so they can both see the design.

"Ohh, Sam." All the breath leaves Ryan on a dreamy sigh as he gazes at the reflection. "It looks so beautiful." He kisses his lover's shoulder.

Sam nods, shifting even more firmly into Ryan's embrace. "It looks brilliant."

"Good, then we'll get started," Dan says, setting the mirror back on the tray.

Ryan behaves himself at the first, hugging Sam to himself but not clinging. Grazing his lips over the strong column of Sam's neck again and again, tasting his lover, soothing himself, and watching Dan very very closely. He wasn't joking about his most treasured possession.

The first bite of the needle's the most painful but after that it all blurs into one throbbing ache. Sam can feel Ryan half-hard against him and he can't resist shifting back, his own body responding eagerly to his boy's arousal.

Grinning against Sam's throat, Ryan watches Dan's careful movements. His cock is spike-hard inside his tight jeans, and the press of Sam's ass is a delicious tease. "What do you think?" he whispers, and licks his lover's earlobe.

"I think I might let you fuck me after," Sam murmurs, not caring if Dan hears or that it's not what Ryan meant. "Mark me inside and out."

"Aww, hell," Ryan mumbles, and buries his face against Sam's shoulder for a moment. "Now you're just trying to make me fall in love with you."

"You think?" Sam says with a grin, hissing in a shocked breath as Dan hits a particularly sensitive spot.

"Sorry," Dan murmurs, glancing upward, his work paused for a moment. "You okay?"

Sam nods. But fuck, that hurt.

Prudently Ryan works to swallow his grin. Sam thinks _that_ hurt, just that measly little patch of skin on his upper arm? Yeah, right. "Do you want to hold my hand?" He asks the question with a completely innocent expression.

Sam gives him a look. "Smart ass," he accuses, eyes sparkling. "Just because you're such a pain slut doesn't mean we all are."

"Hmm." Now Ryan can't stop the smile that's teasing at his lips. He presses a kiss to Sam's throat. "You know I'd take a bullet for you, my love. I'd offer to take the needle... But I think we might be working at cross-purposes at that point."

Sam laughs. "Just wait until I decide to have him do your cock."

Dan grins as he continues working on the design. "He needs some recovery time from the brand," he interjects, confident his friendship with the two men allows it and fairly sure Sam's not serious.

"Yes. Recovery time. Says the professional," Ryan quickly replies, unsure whether to believe Sam or not. He licks Sam's throat, tonguing the beating pulse point. And curiosity wins out. "What would you tattoo on my cock?"

"A dragon?" Sam says, offering up the first suggestion that comes to mind with an unrepentant grin.

Ryan's eyebrows rise. "What, coiled around from root to tip?" God help him, he can almost picture it. "Do you want it in color, too?"

Dan's actively struggling to bite back a chuckle now. These two. Thank god Ryan's not an actor as well.

"Yeah, definitely," Sam says, amused, watching Ryan, the buzz of pain from the needle completely forgotten now.

With a clear expression of 'Help me out here!' on his face, Ryan looks at Dan. "Are you listening to this? He claims to love me more than anything, and yet he's determined to make me the laughingstock of the old age home."

Sam grins. "Who said anything about an old age home? We'll have someone come in to take care of us and it doesn't have to be in colour." He winks at Dan.

Dan laughs again. "Don't look at me," he says, sitting back for a moment. "I've always wanted to do a dragon there. Or a snake, but a dragon's better."

"You can't be serious." Ryan's brow furrows as he watches the needle against his lover's skin. Then he looks at Dan's face. "Do you have any, like, metallic or glittery inks? Are those safe at all?"

"There's a few on the market now that are okay," Dan says, letting Sam know he's almost done. "They need to be demagnetized first or you'd run into trouble at the airport or if you ever needed an MRI."

"...Oh." Ryan licks Sam's throat -- because at least it prevents him from giving even more of himself away. _God_. Nearly every time in their history together when Sam has suggested a new-to-Ryan activity, Ryan has had a moment of pure freaked disbelief. But, as always, now that the idea is firmly lodged in his brain he can't stop thinking about it.

"The idea's growing on you, isn't it?" Sam says, trying hard not to smirk, his jeans growing tighter by the minute, his mind painting a picture of Ryan sliding his tattooed and pierced cock inside him. Christ.

That fetches a noncommittal noise and a small shrug. As if Sam doesn't already _know_. "But if you're going to do it, then you should do it right," he opines suddenly. "I mean, a dragon? A bloke doesn't tattoo a dragon on his cock for it to be ignored. You'd want metallic ink, for dragon scales that catch the light, you know, something..." He trails off, flushing hot.

Dan looks at Sam and when he gets a slight nod, he suggests, "We could do black, gold and silver. Come up with a design. Even mock something up beforehand to make sure it's what you both want."

Ryan finds himself nodding along like a bobble-head at the words, and catches himself with a soft sigh. He peeks over Sam's shoulder again. "How do you feel now?"

"Distracted," Sam responds with a grin, grinding back against Ryan.

Grinning, Ryan asks Dan, "But... done?"

"Almost..." Dan says, putting the final flourish on the design. "There. All done."

"Yeah?" Sam's grin widens and he takes a good look. "That looks brilliant." Sore and red as fuck but he can tell it'll be amazing when it heals. "What do you think?" he asks Ryan.

Ryan, who is staring as only a blood-obsessed boy can do. "I want to know when I can lick it," he murmurs, knowing the mark will start to scab up soon.

At that, Dan stares for a moment before catching himself. "Don't go nuts," he tells them both, setting out a couple of antibacterial wipes, a small tube of ointment and some gauze and tape. "Clean it when you're done, put the ointment on, patch it and follow the rest of the sheet. I'll see you guys in a bit for the dragon," he adds with a grin, shaking Sam's hand and then Ryan's before making a quick escape.

Dan's swift exit startles Ryan and he looks up in question. Then his words replay through his mind and he blushes crimson. "Jesus," he mutters, pressing his hot forehead to Sam's shoulder. "The shit he has to put up with... I'm sorry, Sir. Sorry I was out of line."

"You were being honest and it _is_ your tattoo," Sam says with a smile, brushing his lips across Ryan's temple.

"Yeah?" Ryan's expression brightens. "Does that mean...? Hold up," he says, and nudges Sam out of his lap, then quickly falls from the chair to his knees. "Is it all right if I...?"

Fuck. Sam nods, his cock swelling harder than ever. "Before it dries..."

Ryan groans softly, lust twisting his gut into knots. He lays his hands lightly on Sam's thighs, then leans in for a first slow taste. Languorously dragging his tongue over the center of the new tattoo, catching a few miniscule blood drops. Whimpering at the sharp taste.

Sam echoes that groan. Breathes a sigh of pure pleasure, his eyes half-closed, locked on his boy's mouth, on that pink tongue sliding over his skin. Over that mark.

This simple elemental act always shatters Ryan. So sensual and yet so primal, taking his lover's blood into himself, irrevocably joining them. He licks again and his hips surge, and he looks up at Sam with pleading eyes. "Sir," he begs, feeling the coppery wetness on his lips. "Please, Sir. Make me yours."

"Here?" Sam grins. "I thought you wanted to fuck me," he teases.

Ryan's eyes are already hazed with lust, but now they cloud further in confusion. "...Sir?" he asks, trying to recall if they'd already talked about Ryan topping today. Or if Sam is just playing with him. Or if... "I... Sir." He's definitely not at his most articulate when the blood madness fogs his brain.

Poor boy. "Get your jeans off, mine too," Sam orders. "Then brace yourself against the chair."

"...Me?" Ryan asked, his mind hazy. "Was I...? Please, Sir." He can't even figure it out right this second. "Please, Sir, fuck me. Make me bleed."

Sam pushes to his feet and pulls Ryan to his, hands making quick work of both their clothes. "Turn around," he orders, already helping Ryan do just that, grateful for the rule that requires his boy to be prepped at all times.

Without a word Ryan leans over and braces himself against the chair Sam only just vacated. His breaths come fast and shallow now, everything in him crying out to be owned by his sir.

Taking himself in hand, Sam rubs the head of his cock over Ryan's hole a few times before pushing inside.

Ryan whines softly, but his body immediately reacts: He grips the wooden seat harder, spreads his thighs and bears down, wanting more of Sam. Wanting _all_ of Sam.

"Christ, you're a needy boy," Sam murmurs, but it's clear he approves. He grips Ryan's cheeks, spreading his hole open with his thumbs, and lets him have _every_ fucking inch in one deep thrust.

Now Ryan shouts, overwhelmed. He heard his lover speak but couldn't quite tell if it was praise or complaint or... His brain is becoming less and less involved with every passing second. But it's definitely true: he _needs_ this, needs it like air to breathe. His back bows and he shoves himself onto Sam's cock again and again.

Sam braces his legs and drives in, meeting every movement, pounding into Ryan with a ferocity that makes him completely forget the ache of his new - and only - tattoo.

"Yours." The whisper falls from Ryan's lips, nearly inaudible. "Sir. You own me." His fingers dig into the chair, gripping tightly. "Yes!"

"Mine," Sam agrees, holding nothing back as he drives into Ryan's hole again and again, determined that he'll be feeling this for days. " _My_ boy. _My_ hole." Thumbs stroking over the tattoo that proves it.

"Yes." It's damn near a sob now. Ryan's orgasm is the furthest thing from his mind. It's all about Sam -- giving Sam absolutely everything of himself.

" _Mine_ ," Sam says once more before he comes with a rough, ragged groan, emptying himself into his boy's battered hole in thick, heavy spurts.

Ryan whimpers like a dog left with nothing. He works his muscles, trying to milk Sam's cock for every last drop, his movements edged with raw desire.

"You want to come for me, boy?" Sam growls softly, wrapping his hand around Ryan's cock, his own still throbbing inside him.

That touch is like an electric current that shocks Ryan's body. He cries out, surprised and unprepared and stunned to find himself hovering on the edge. "Please!"

"Then do it. Let me have it, boy," Sam demands, giving Ryan's cock a couple rough strokes.

The dam breaks in an instant. Ryan howls, waves of pleasure pummeling him, tumbling one over the last until he's gasping for breath, his lungs aching like he's caught in an undertow and submerged too long.

"Good boy," Sam praises, wincing lightly, Ryan's body so tight around him it almost hurts. He gentles his strokes until every last aftershock has rippled through his lover then pulls him up, in against his chest, kissing the back of his neck. "Mine. I love you so much."

Ryan whimpers softly and turns his head to nuzzle at Sam's throat. Wanting to be completely surrounded by his sir, safe and secure in a moment outside of time.


End file.
